What Monster Jam Is Actually Like Today (And Will Your Kids Like It?)

My wife and I took our 3-year-old to Monster Jam at Ball Arena last year, mostly because she'd spotted a Grave Digger toy at Target and would not stop talking about it. I went in expecting a loud, chaotic afternoon that I'd survive rather than enjoy. Came out feeling differently about that.

The show has changed more than I expected. Monster Jam started in 1992 and has been building out the brand — trucks, TV deals, toys — for decades, but if your mental image is still grainy VHS footage of trucks flattening old Buicks in a county fairground, the current version is a different thing. The production is bigger, the drivers are actual athletes, and there's a real competitive structure that I didn't know about going in. Racing heats, a freestyle round where drivers get scored on their runs, a skills competition — it's organized in a way that gives you something to follow, not just noise to sit through.

What the Day Actually Looks Like

We did the Pit Party before the show, which I almost skipped because it sounded like a marketing add-on. It wasn't. You walk through the actual arena floor and get up close to the trucks, which are enormous in a way that doesn't translate through a screen. Our daughter stood next to a tire that was taller than her and went completely still for about ten seconds, which for a 3-year-old is basically a standing ovation. Drivers sign autographs and take photos — it ran a bit long and the lines move slowly, so get there when it opens if you have small kids with limited patience.

The show itself is loud. Genuinely, bring-earplugs loud. We had foam earplugs for our daughter and she still kept her hands over her ears for the first twenty minutes before she got used to it. If your kid is sensitive to sound, that's worth knowing ahead of time and not just something to figure out when you're already in the seats. After she adjusted, she was completely locked in — pointing at trucks by name, which I found impressive and slightly humbling since I had to look up half of them.

What Works, What Doesn't

The freestyle round was the best part of the show. Each driver gets a set amount of time to do whatever they want — jumps, donuts, flips if they can manage it — and the crowd scores it. That structure actually makes you care about individual trucks and drivers in a way I wasn't expecting. By the time El Toro Loco was up, even I had a preference.

What doesn't work as well: the pacing drags between segments. There are a lot of breaks, and the in-arena entertainment during those breaks is loud and frenetic in a way that feels like it's compensating for not having anything for you to watch. It didn't ruin the experience, but the show is probably 30 minutes longer than it needs to be.

Parking around Ball Arena on a show day is its own project. We drove in from Highlands and parked over near the Pepsi Center lots, which wasn't cheap. The light rail option is worth considering seriously if you're coming from a neighborhood with a station — it's a lot less stressful, especially if you're wrangling a small kid.

The Practical Stuff

Tickets vary a lot depending on where you sit and whether you add the Pit Party. The floor seats feel immersive but you're low enough that sightlines can be tricky. The lower bowl is where I'd sit again — close enough to feel the scale, high enough to see the whole floor. The Pit Party access is a separate ticket and I'd call it worth it specifically if you have younger kids for whom the trucks themselves are the draw.

After the show, if you're hungry and staying in LoDo, Ledo Thai on Blake Street is right there and moves quickly enough that you won't be waiting forever with tired kids.

Monster Jam isn't something I'd go to every year, but I'd go back when our daughter asks. She's already asked. Worth knowing about if you have kids in the 3–8 range who are into trucks — this is the real-life version of whatever they've been watching on YouTube.